All alone on Lake O Flynn, separate from the others the boat of the lonesome boatman. Not for him, telling tales of the one that got away or the big catch's of his youth. He fishes alone, but for an old dog, while he whistles softly, a tune that nobody can name. I'v heard it said he was a Soldier who saw things no man should ever see. Or a Clergyman who lost his faith. While another claimed that he killed for the love of a woman. Whatever he may have been, now he's the lonesome boatman.
I love how you processed this! What did you do? It paints a beautiful story. By the way ... spent June on the west coast of Ireland. I want to LIVE there too.
Love the soft hues and the reflection of colour. It is always a surprise to notice other people and their work that I have missed. There is quite a gang on here.
